by T. M. Cromer
* * *
Inside, Ryanne wasn’t as cool and collected as the other occupants of the room probably believed her to be. Wave after wave of dread for her sister’s imagined transgressions crashed into her. If Rylee was here as a spy for Victor, then she’d just collected two powerful enemies. Neither Nash nor Alastair would forgive the perceived slight against their family, of that, Ryanne was certain. These men didn’t strike her as the forgiving sort.
Following the dread was a profound sadness. When had her sister turned into such a devious person? Had she always been that way and Ryanne happened to miss this aspect of her sister’s personality? Where had this hatred come from? If Rylee had hated her in the past, it had been hidden well.
“Answer the question, Rylee. I won’t ask it again.”
“Fine,” Rylee spat. “Victor helped me regain my powers when I met him in New York.”
“New York?” Disbelief warred with anger, and Ryanne didn’t know whether to cry or smack her sister silly. “Rylee, that was years ago. Why did you never tell me we were witches?”
“You? Miss Goody-Two-Shoes? I was supposed to tell you that our parents were thieves and used the two of us to get magical artifacts for the Dés—” Abruptly, she stopped speaking, as if she’d said too much. “It doesn’t matter. Chris and Hazel had you wrapped up so deeply in their beliefs that you could scarcely breathe, and you didn’t seem to want to change it. If Victor hadn’t freed you, you’d still be under their influence. You’d never have met your beloved Nash Thorne.” The sneer on Rylee’s face was full of loathing, and each word she uttered dripped with acid.
Ryanne didn’t realize how hard she gripped Nash until he raised their joined hands and dropped a kiss on her knuckles. Her throat closed at his gesture. In the course of a day, her world had turned upside down. What she thought she knew about her life had all been a lie. The closeness she believed she shared with her twin was nothing but a sham. And most startling of all? The man she had crushed on from afar appeared to have deep feelings for her.
Full of bemused wonder, she stared deeply into his green eyes. The silent understanding he offered brought tears to her eyes. She blinked the sting away.
“You said Victor freed her. How did he do that?”
Alastair’s icy tone brought her up sharp. She whipped her head around to stare at Rylee.
Rylee laughed in the face of Alastair’s rage. “He has connections. Isn’t it ironic that the Joneses were always threatening fire and brimstone with each sermon, and then they themselves died in a fiery blaze?”
Ryanne’s throat ceased to work. Although she swallowed air convulsively, she couldn’t seem to get the necessary oxygen to her lungs. Jumping up, she raced for the bathroom. She managed to make it to the toilet in time to deposit the contents of her stomach in the bowl. Over and over, she retched until there was nothing left inside her. She sat back against the wall of the bathroom and took a ragged breath.
“Here, child.”
Glancing up, she saw the washcloth Alastair held out to her. With a shaky hand, she accepted the offering and wiped her mouth.
“My son has a weak stomach when it comes to vomit. He calls himself a ‘sympathetic yacker.’ Otherwise, he’d have followed you.” Amusement rested heavy in Alastair’s tone. “Trust me, you don’t want him to attend you at a time like this. You’d be cleaning two messes.”
Ryanne was surprised she could laugh. “I’ll keep that in mind for future stomach ailments.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Victor had my adoptive parents murdered, didn’t he?”
“I have no doubt.”
Hot tears escaped down her cheeks. She pressed the heels of her palms to her eyes. “How could she have a boyfriend as evil as him?”
“He’s not her boyfriend.”
Astonishment brought her head up.
“Victor isn’t into women. He gets his kicks in other ways. If your sister is keeping company with him, it’s for an entirely different reason.”
“But she said he didn’t mind if she strayed, and you said they were rumored to be together.”
“I was curious as to how far she’d go with her advances toward my son.” He held out his hand to help her up. “Get cleaned up and come out when you’re ready. I’ll prepare you a cup of peppermint tea to soothe your stomach.”
“You’re a kind man, Mr. Thorne.”
“No, child. Never make the mistake of believing me kind.”
“We can agree to disagree. Based on all you’ve done for me so far… well, let’s say it’s more than anyone else has done for me in the last ten years.”
“Even Nash?”
“Until today, I assumed Nash had ulterior motives for doing the little things he’s done. Lunch here or a coffee there. I firmly believed he wanted to keep me from finding another job.”
Alastair’s laugh was deep and full-bodied. “Thornes can be a selfish lot. We’ll do for each other, but because of who and what we are, we stick to ourselves. It is written that a Thorne only loves once.” He tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. The move, so similar to Nash’s, made her wonder if mannerisms were genetic or learned. “If Nash did anything nice for you at all, it was his way of showing he cares for you. I think I know him well enough to say he has been struck by Cupid’s arrow.”
Ryanne rubbed the place over her heart.
“Dare I say that you’ve been struck too?” he asked gently.
“I think it’s highly possible,” she croaked.
He nodded his understanding and turned to leave.
“Mr. Thorne?”
“Yes?”
“Will you keep this conversation to yourself? I need time to process.”
“Certainly, child. Come out when you’re ready.”
Chapter 9
Nash stopped pacing when his father entered the room. “Is she all right?”
“She’s fine, son. I suspect she’ll join us in a few minutes.”
“Oh, aren’t you the sweetest?” Rylee sneered. “Poor little Ryanne has an upset belly. You should go kiss her better.”
“Shut your mouth,” Nash snarled. “Your sister has had nothing but nice things to say about you until now. We…” He gestured to the three of them. “…all know better, don’t we? You’re nothing but a horrid wretch, out to cause trouble at every opportunity.”
Something flashed in her eyes—possibly hurt or regret—but Nash wasn’t buying whatever she was about to peddle. “I love my sister.”
“Doubtful,” murmured Alastair.
In this, father and son were in agreement. Nash didn’t trust Rylee. She had trouble written all over her aura. It was funny how two women who were considered identical could be so different from one another. Ryanne’s light was bold and beautiful, while her twin’s was dark and twisted.
Misgivings assailed him. Would Victor spot Ryanne as a fake right away? Was she too good and pure of heart to fool him?
Ryanne stepped back into the living room, and it was impossible for Nash to keep his hands to himself. He wrapped her in his tight embrace and buried his face in her silky hair. She seemed to be desperate for the contact, too, because she clung to him for all she was worth.
He didn’t care that the timing was shit. He couldn’t let another second pass without telling her his feelings. “I love you, Ryanne.”
Her hands fisted in his shirt, and she hugged him closer.
“You don’t have to say it back, but I need you to know.” He rubbed his cheek against hers and, in a low voice, said, “From the very moment we met, you’ve held my heart.”
“So the drool comment was all an act?”
“Absolutely.”
“Good to know.” She lifted her head and met his steady gaze. “I’m not sure what I feel, Nash. It’s definitely more than I ever have before, but this is all coming at me pretty fast.”
He shoved aside his disappointment and tried not to be discouraged because she hadn’t replied in
kind. Not everyone loved as swiftly or as all-consumingly as a Thorne.
“Let’s get back to the matter at hand, shall we?” Alastair asked.
There was a quality to his voice that made Nash take notice. What his father thought of all this was anyone’s guess. Alastair usually held his cards close to the vest.
“Why are you here, Rylee? Here in Ryanne’s apartment? Now that we know it isn’t about sisterly love, the truth would be appreciated.” Nash moved to stand before her as he asked the question. While he stared down at her, he experienced a wave of dizziness. He shook his head once to clear it. A wicked, self-satisfied smirk came and went on her face. She was up to something. Exactly what, was the question of the hour.
“I came for the journal.”
Her eyes darted to the book, and she licked her lips.
In all likelihood, she spoke the truth. Not quite all of the truth, but enough to not set off Nash’s BS alarm. He knew the answer to the next question, but he wanted to see how honest she would be. “What use is it to you?”
“It’s not, other than to retrieve it for Victor. He needs it for the necklace.”
“Is he expecting you back tonight?”
“No. Tomorrow morning at the earliest.” She shot a resentful gaze toward Ryanne. “I told him that I needed to play the part of the loving sister.”
Nash’s heart ached for Ryanne. While he didn’t necessarily place high in every family member’s affections, he doubted they wanted to hurt him in the way Rylee wished to injure her own twin.
“Alastair, Ryanne, may I speak with you privately?”
They followed him into the kitchen but stopped where they could keep Rylee within their sights.
“What are you thinking, son?”
Taking a deep breath, he met Ryanne’s worried gaze head-on. “I want to create a look-a-like journal to hand off to Victor, and I want you to pretend to be your sister.”
Silence reigned. Disbelief and hurt were written all over her beautiful face. After a long pause, she spoke. “You would still put me in the path of that psycho, knowing he killed my adoptive parents?”
“We have to get our hands on the Red Scorpion, babe. We are out of options.”
“What do you think, Mr. Thorne?”
It grated to see her seek Alastair’s opinion, but Nash forcibly cooled his ire, hoping his father would persuade her to carry through with this plan.
Alastair turned his thoughtful gaze on Nash. It wasn’t often they were in accord, but he could tell this was one of those times. Yet underlying Alastair’s cool confidence was an uncertainty. About what or for whom, Nash couldn’t say.
“We could use your help, child. Of course we will understand if you say no, but I have something that might make your decision easier.”
“What would that be?” she asked.
“It’s a tanzanite pendant. It acts as a communication device of sorts. You touch it, and it will psychically connect you to me.”
“Only you? Not Nash, too?”
A soft understanding smile twisted Alastair’s lips. “Would you prefer it be my son?”
“I…” She shook her head as if to clear it. “Is there a way to be connected to you both? I mean should I get into trouble, two heads are better than one, right?”
“I’ll create a second tanzanite ring for Nash. In the meantime, have a bite to eat and get some rest, my dear. You too, son. I have the feeling tomorrow will take a lot out of us.”
“What should we do about my sister?”
“My spell will hold her,” Alastair assured her.
“Won’t she be stiff in the morning after being magically tied to the chair all night?”
Nash shook his head and snorted. Leave it to Ryanne to care about someone else’s comfort, even if that someone had set out to make her life a living hell.
“Before I leave, I’ll alter it so that she will be able to recline on your sofa. Does that make you happy?”
“Thank you, Mr. Thorne.”
“I’ll go see to that now. You and my son have a few things to discuss before morning.”
* * *
Ryanne waited until the elder Thorne left the room before facing Nash. “I seriously have a bad feeling about this whole thing.”
“You are smart and quick on your feet, Ryanne. I have the utmost faith in you.”
“No. You don’t understand.” She shook her head. How could she explain the alarm bells clanging inside her brain? This whole situation was a clusterfuck and likely to end with one of them dead. She’d only had this troubling sense of unease twice before: as a child, when her parents were in the accident, and again the night of the fire when Chris and Hazel died. “Nash, this is a horrible idea.”
His large, warm palm cupped her cheek and made her want to lean into his hand like a kitten seeking attention. What did it say about her that she was starved for his affection? She curbed the impulse and looked him squarely in the eye. “I’m frightened.”
His misgivings were clearly written upon his handsome features. The tightening of his full mouth, the narrowing of his beguiling eyes, and the tick of the firm muscle of his jaw all revealed his own struggle.
“I would never put you in danger if there was any other way, babe. You have to know that.” When she remained silent, Nash continued. “Ryanne, tell me you know that. Tell me you understand you are more important to me than any other living soul on the planet.”
His earnestness made her want to embrace him and all he offered. Yet trust wasn’t always easy for her. In the back of her mind, a little doubt bomb detonated. What if he was using her for his own gains? Telling her exactly what she wanted to hear?
When he dropped his hand, she silently mourned the loss of his touch. His heavy sigh told her that he understood she wasn’t going to be an easy sell.
“I’m sorry, Nash.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for. We’ll figure something else out.”
“You’re not mad at me?”
“No, Ryanne. You have the right to say no. No to this crazy mission. No to a relationship with me. No to whatever you find objectionable.”
Right then and there, the feeling she was previously unsure of blossomed into something larger than her heart could contain. “I don’t find you objectionable in the least. And I’m not saying no to a relationship with you.”
His happy smile took her breath away.
“Good, because that offer was a little bit harder for me to put out there.”
She laughed as he drew her close. “I love you, too, Nash.”
He went still for a long moment before crushing her to him. It was difficult to take a deep breath because she feared he might crack her ribs.
“Can’t… breathe…”
“Oh, crap! I’m sorry, Ryanne. I…” He had loosened his grip and was staring down into her smiling face. When Nash shook his head in wonder, Ryanne knew that he was for real. That he wasn’t playing her to gain the necklace.
“I’ll do it.”
He frowned his confusion.
“Switch places with my sister—I’ll do it.”
“Don’t do this because you think it’s a condition of my feelings. It’s not.”
“No. I’m agreeing because it’s not a condition of your love. You are the only person who doesn’t expect anything of me, Nash. Do you know how rare that is in my world?” She shook her head and attempted to explain. “Not that I remembered their larcenous ways, but obviously my birth parents required me to be the perfect little thief. Then my adoptive parents expected me to always follow the religious path they envisioned for my life. Rylee used me and still expects me to fall in with her schemes.” She caressed his hard jaw. “But you are giving me a choice. I can do or not do, and you are going to love me anyway, aren’t you?”
“Yes. I will continue to love you whatever you choose to do. If you want to help retrieve the Red Scorpion, I’ll be ecstatic, but if you don’t, I’ll understand. If you want to continue to be my assistan
t, I’ll be delighted for you to continue by my side, and I’ll be happy to finally be able to share the details of our dealings with the Council. But if you decide you want to follow a different career path, I’ll support that, too.” He tilted her chin up and dropped a light, lingering kiss on her lips. “I love you for you, babe. Your happiness is my priority.”
She blinked back the stinging prick of tears. “Thank you.”
“Now, you decide what you’d like to eat, and I’ll show you how to conjure it.”
Chapter 10
Dinner was a quiet affair. Rylee’s surly presence weighed heavily on Nash and Ryanne. At some point, they would need to find a way to deal with her, but for now, they sat and ate their meal under the resentful force of her glare.
Nash had offered to free the invisible ties binding her hands so that she might eat with them, but she sneered and stated she’d rather starve. He wasn’t heartbroken or concerned in the least. It wouldn’t hurt her to miss a meal. In fact, she needed to get used to the fact that her meal ticket, Victor, was going to be out of commission very soon.
“I’ll dish up the ice cream. Do you want any?” Ryanne asked, eager to be away from the tension in the room.
“Just a scoop, please.”
Her uncertain gaze darted to her twin. “Rylee?”
“Fuck off.”
Disappointment darkened her eyes, and she quickly turned away to hide her hurt at Rylee’s ugliness.
“You’d better offer your sister more respect, or I’ll bind your tongue along with your body,” Nash snapped once Ryanne had cleared the room.
A sly, come-hither expression settled over Rylee’s features, and her mouth curled in sexual invitation. “Oh, come now, Nash. Surely, you realize my sister can’t satisfy your needs. Not a virile man like you. If you help me, I’ll make it worth your while. The things I can do make grown men blush and give their dicks a permanent hard on.”
“Sounds uncomfortable.” Instead of tempted, he was completely repulsed. “In case it’s not clear, let me spell it out for you. I love Ryanne. Anything you offer? Yeah, that’s going to be a hard pass.”
